


i'm still alone in my mind

by AllTheNamesIWantedWereUsed



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Complicated Relationships, Dark Character, Developing Friendships, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kidnapping, Manipulation, One-Sided Relationship, Original Character(s), Plot, Rating May Change, Therapy, Trauma, Unhealthy Relationships, attempted redemption, damien is still a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12171837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheNamesIWantedWereUsed/pseuds/AllTheNamesIWantedWereUsed
Summary: Damien has been searching for someone like him for a long time, and Dr. Bright has always hoped he wouldn't succeed. Now that she is the only barrier between him and what he wants, will she succeed in protecting the most potentially dangerous person she's ever encountered aside from Damien?Carmen Baez has spent a long time fearing her abilities ever since one particular night, desperate for someone who can understand. Unfortunately, the one person who might is nothing like her, and certainly has no qualms about using his powers the way she does. Despite her intuition and her therapist's warnings, she can't help but wonder if she can change that.She can't.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First things first: I absolutely LOATHE Damien. However, he is an extremely interesting character to analyze and play with, and this fic is me exploring the nuances of his character traits. It should be fairly compliant with canon (perhaps, no promises). Who knows?
> 
> Title comes from Halsey's "Alone" which I really think describes both Damien and Carmen pretty well.

Joan Bright slumps back in her office chair, a swell of relief bubbling in her chest as she watches Damien close the door behind him. He could’ve been worse, she supposed, but God, was she angry. Angry at him for influencing her, angry at herself for not being able to fight him as well as she would have liked.

 

What infuriates her even more was that she’d been forced to reveal information about Chloe. Chloe was just a kid, really, one with a heart of gold, an artist’s touch, and a personality strongly reminiscent of a sunbeam. Joan knew she had to do her damndest to keep Damien as far away from her as possible.

 

Saying she didn't like Damien was an understatement. He was a thorn in her side that she couldn’t pull out, and as much as she hates to admit it, there could always come a time when she might need him.

 

Especially if he could help her save Mark.

* * *

 

“New patient, first session,” Joan says, just loud enough for her recorder to pick up, “Female, 27, previous diagnosis of anxiety, no psychological counseling since the age of twelve. She said she was referred to us by one of my other patients; nevertheless, Sarah noted that she was very quiet and nervous when making her appointment, much like patient number 12-D-10. Condition unknown.”

 

She picks up her notepad as a knock on the door sounds.

 

“Come on in,” Joan says.

 

The door opens, and a young woman walks in, jeans ripped and hands stained with ink.

 

“...Hi.”

 

“Hello. It’s Carmen, correct?”

 

“Yeah,” the woman answers nervously. She's of medium height, with olive skin and wavy hair the color of espresso bound in a braid down her back. She clutches at her purse like it was a lifeline, the chipped red polish on her nails standing out against the black faux leather.

 

“Well, Carmen, I’m Dr. Bright. It’s wonderful to meet you, would you like to sit down?”

 

“Oh, right.” Carmen sinks down onto the couch, “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

 

“I’m happy to have you here. How are you today?”

 

“Tired, mainly,” Carmen answers.

 

“Why is that?”

 

“I have to be at my job early, to open up before anyone else, so I get up pretty early too.”

 

“And where do you work?” Joan inquires.

 

“I’m a dance teacher at the community studio on 52nd Street, it’s a few blocks from here. I spend most of the day trying to explain to second graders how to do a plié.”

 

“I see. Getting up so early along with teaching a physical activity must be draining,” Joan comments.

 

“It is,” Carmen admits. “But I love doing it, so it all works out, I guess.”

 

“Having a job you enjoy means all the difference in the world, it’s good that you’re content with the working aspect of your life,” Joan says. “What about your personal life?”

 

“I don’t really have any family,” Carmen says with a small smile. “Not too many friends, since...well, anyway, my private life is pretty boring. I spend most of my free time sleeping or writing.” She tucks a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “Listen, Dr. Bright, I don’t mean to be blunt, but I know you’re not an ordinary therapist, or Janine wouldn’t have recommended you to me.”

 

“That’s an accurate statement,” Joan agrees, her mind conjuring up an image of the aforementioned patient, long since treated and stabilized.

 

“So, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not beat around the bush. I know that you’re a therapist for...atypicals, I think is the word?”

 

Joan nods. “Indeed. Are you of the opinion that you have atypical capabilities?”

 

“Yeah, but...well, it’s complicated.” Unease flickers in Carmen’s dark brown eyes.

 

“We’ve got time,” Joan replies with a small smile.

 

“Right, well, it’s weird. I’m generally a pretty persuasive person, you know? But sometimes I don’t even need to whip out any arguments, or anything, I’ll just say something  about something I’d like to happen and someone will follow along, like, to the letter, or-or I’ll just think about wanting someone to do something and then they’ll do it. Does that make sense?” Carmen says, wincing a bit.

 

Joan feel her stomach twist. Carmen’s descriptions of her powers are alarmingly similar to someone else’s...namely, Damien’s.

 

“I think so...could-could you give me a more specific example?” she asks.

 

“Ah, sure, um...well, sometimes I’m behind on my rent because the due date for it and my paycheck aren’t always in line, and my landlord is pretty uptight about late rent, he’ll have your utilities shut off until you pay it,” Carmen muses. “But when I’m behind, I’ll talk to him and ask him to give me a few more days, and he’ll usually do it. He doesn’t ever do that, according to my neighbors.”

 

“I see. Are you sure your landlord isn’t letting you off the hook for other reasons?” Joan says, hinting slightly. “Such as attraction or-”

 

“Oh, no- I mean, I don’t think so...you see, he’s not into girls, as far as I know,” Carmen says.

 

“Ah. Any other examples?”

 

“Well, sometimes, when I’m at the studio, there’s this one group of girls who are always _so loud,_ and I’ll keep wishing that’d they be quiet, and then all of a sudden, they’ll just stop talking in the middle of a conversation and won’t say a word for the rest of the class. It’s so bizarre,” Carmen recalls. “Oh, and once, I was really craving a latte, and my co-worker just up and left out of nowhere and came back twenty minutes later with one and gave it to me.”

 

The last anecdote reminds Joan uncomfortably of the earlier water incident with Damien.

 

“That’s...interesting,” she says, scribbling notes down. “How long has this been happening?”

 

“About seven years, almost,” Carmen replies.

 

“You’ve been living with this ability for almost seven years?”

 

“Struggling, really. I can’t control it as much as I’d like. Kind of sad, huh?”

 

“Not at all,” Joan says. “I’ve known quite a few atypicals who have had difficulties with their abilities for years, sometimes even most of their lives because they’ve gone without the proper education.”

 

“Will you help me?” Carmen asks.

 

“I’ll certainly do my best. Your ability is an extremely rare one, with not much information on it. I’m afraid you’ll be somewhat of a guinea pig for some of my more theoretical methods.”

 

“Whatever it takes,” Carmen says firmly. “Maybe I can help other people like me, if there are any.”

  
_You have no idea,_ Joan thinks.


	2. Chapter 2

The more Carmen talks, the more she tries to explain how her ability works, Joan’s stomach has tied itself into knots ten times over. There’s a demureness to her descriptions, far less flamboyant than Damien’s though alarmingly similar in content and by the end of session, Joan has estimated that Carmen could be classified as Class E, Level 7. 

 

Well, perhaps that’s still up for debate. Carmen isn’t absolutely high risk, per se, but anyone with her abilities certainly could be under certain circumstances. 

 

The smile on her face melts away the second the door closes behind Carmen, and she puts her face in her hands and tries to take deep breaths.

 

Carmen is a good person, she tells herself. Carmen is wary of her powers, which is a definite improvement over Damien already, but doesn’t have as much control over them as he does. 

 

“I don’t want to be able to use it,” she’d said. “I just want to be able to control it, keep it from bleeding into other people’s minds.”

 

She was nothing like Damien.

 

And that relieved her, sure, but...it was only a matter of time before Damien managed to pry information about Carmen out of her. Damien was desperate for someone like him, and Carmen was the exact opposite of his personality. They were like oil and water, and Joan’s concern for Carmen is growing. 

 

Damien wouldn’t  _ hurt  _ Carmen, surely...but with him, who could tell?

* * *

 

Carmen’s shoulders are a little less tense when she leaves Dr. Bright’s office. It felt...strangely good to explain her powers. Janine’s tried to understand, sure, but she wasn’t a therapist, and their powers were vastly different: Janine could freeze liquids. Not exactly as dangerous as being able to control people’s minds--well, Dr. Bright had called it “imposing want on others,” but mind control seemed broader and easier to explain. 

 

It was just a matter of experiences, she supposes.

 

She was Dr. Bright’s last patient of the day, and twilight falls over the city as she leaves the building, bathing the surrounding structures in soft yellow and purple light as she crosses through the park to make her way towards her apartment. She texts Janine, letting her know that she’d just finished her session and was now walking home. 

 

Her phone dings a few moments later.  __

 

_ That’s great! How’d it go? _

 

**Okay, I think. Thanks for the rec.**

 

_ Whatever helps. It’s late, though, do you need me to come pick you up? _

 

**Thanks, but it’s a short walk. I’ll text you when I get home.**

 

Carmen keeps her phone in her hand as she walks. She likes Dr. Bright, the other woman is calming and understanding, and her world seems a little clearer and a little more brighter knowing that she’s got someone who can help her. A therapist for people with superpowers- she can’t get over how weirdly cool that is. 

 

It’s quiet save for the rumble of car engines on the next street over, and as she looks up at the sliver of silver moon in the sky, Carmen lets herself hope for the first time in a long time.

* * *

 

It’s been a little less than a week since Damien last visited Dr. B. Normally, he’d wait a little while before visiting the good doctor, but...well, he’s bored, and Dr. B is usually pretty entertaining, for about half an hour at least. 

 

He breezes by Sarah in the waiting room with ease, doesn’t even bother to knock. Why would he?

 

“Damien.” Dr. B’s voice is terse, and her office is empty. 

 

“Hey, Dr. B,” he responds cheerfully. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

 

“Damien, you can’t be here,” she says, glaring as she sits down in her chair. “I’m supposed to be meeting with a patient in less than half an hour-”

 

“Which patient?” he inquires, plopping himself down on the couch. Dr. B has a pretty nice couch, he should ask her for it sometime.

 

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

 

Almost lazily, he prods at her mind.

 

“A new one-stop it, Damien.”

 

“You could just tell me,” he wheedles, and he’s about to push a little harder when he sees it.

 

“Why’re your hands shaking, Dr. B?” 

 

“I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m currently functioning on five espresso shots,” she answers.

 

“Damn. That ain’t healthy, Doc, or cheap.”

 

“I’m aware.” She seems stiffer than usual. Maybe he can get her to lighten up.

 

“So, back to the new patient-what’s the ability?” he says, poking at her consciousness.

 

“Stop poking into my mind, I’ll tell you,” she says irritably. “They’re an empath.”

 

“Another one? Damn, they breed like rabbits, don’t they?”

 

“That’s-that’s not how it works, not really- Damien, I need to meet with this other patient, have to get my notes together-I don’t have time for this.”

 

“You always have time for me.”

 

“Only because I’m forced to. You never  _ pay _ for any of that time, either.”

 

“Unimportant details is what you’re wasting your time with, Dr. B,” he mock-sighs. “So...what have you been up to?”

* * *

 

Carmen hopes Dr. Bright hasn’t canceled their session as she hurries into the waiting room. 

 

“Hi, Carmen,” Sarah greets her. “Here to sign in?”

 

“Yeah,” she says a little breathlessly, fingers clumsily pulling the clipboard on the desk towards her. “Sorry I’m late, I was caught up teaching a class-”

 

“No worries, one of her...sessions is running a little late, anyway.” Sarah smiles, but there’s a tension in her expression. 

 

“Is-is everything okay, Sarah?”

 

“Of course,” Sarah replies, but Carmen’s learned to know when people are lying, and her curiosity increases. 

 

“Well...alright then,” Carmen says, her mind only vaguely registering the sound of Dr. Bright’s office door opening. She starts to turn and head for a chair in the waiting room, only to roughly collide with another body.

 

“Ow! Jesus-”

 

“Shit,” she mutters, reeling a bit. Glancing up to apologize further, she finds herself face to face with a man about her age with black hair and steel gray eyes staring at her like she’s some kind of new bug under a microscope, and the apology dies on her lips. 

 

“C-Cara!” Dr. Bright hurries forward. “I’m so sorry, I-”

 

“Who’s this, Dr. B?” 

 

“Not important,” Dr. Bright bites out at him. She grabs Carmen’s arm with a force that makes her stagger, yanking her past the man.

 

“I thought you said you were meeting with an empath,” the man says. 

 

“I am,” Dr. Bright says through gritted teeth. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Damien, I have an actual patient to attend to.”

 

Before Damien(?) can say anything, Dr. Bright has shoved Carmen into her office and slams the door behind her, and Carmen can only stare as Dr. Bright locks it before turning back to her

 

“I’m very sorry about that,” Dr. Bright says. “So, how are you?”

 

Needless to say, Carmen is speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Adam voice* thE PLOt thiCKENS
> 
> Comment/kudos, please!


	3. Chapter 3

“Dr. Bright, what just happened?” Carmen says. “Who was that guy? Why did you call me Cara?” Her mind is racing and Dr. Bright is the only one who has answers, and Carmen  _ wants  _ answers, she  _ needs  _ answers-

 

“I’m so sorry about all that, Carmen, I-” Dr. Bright breaks off, closing her eyes, gritting her teeth.

 

“Dr. Bright?”

 

“Your ability,” Dr. Bright manages, and Carmen’s desperation gives way to horror. 

 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I-” Carmen screws up her eyes and tries to think about the dance routine she was teaching earlier, focusing on every single step, how to do it, how to explain-

 

“It’s alright, Carmen, it’s passed.”

 

She opens her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dr. Bright-”

 

“No harm done. Why don’t you have a seat?” 

 

Carmen does as she says, folding her hands in her lap, feeling awful. Dr. Bright sits down as well, mirroring her movements.

 

“As premature as this is, I do feel I need to explain,” Dr. Bright says, and Carmen wonders what the hell she’s gotten herself into.

* * *

 

Damien manages to finagle the sign-in sheet from Sarah fairly easily (her mind is so weak), and well, well, Dr. B just can’t get her names right, can she? 

 

_ Hello, Carmen Baez, _ he thinks, glancing at the name on the paper. Another girl with another odd mind. How the plot thickens. 

 

It makes sense, now, why Dr. B was so quick to tell him about her new ‘empath,’ she knew that if she went ahead and told him he wouldn’t push. He’s going to have to change that, he couldn’t have her lying to him, now could he?

 

He could stick around, put Dr. B and her new patient under siege in the office, but, eh, not his style and besides, it’d be easier to lure the good doctor into a false sense of security. It’s always amusing when he comes in and shatters it.

 

He grins to himself as he leaves. This week just got a lot more interesting.

* * *

 

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Joan says. 

 

“Yeah, but how do I know you actually want to answer them?” Carmen says.

 

“Rotten luck and bad timing are the reasons I need to answer your questions, Carmen, not your abilities,’ Joan reassures her. “So, go ahead. Ask away.”

 

“Who-who was that guy?”

 

Joan sighs. “That was Damien. He’s...one of my more, well, difficult patients.”

 

“He seemed like it. There was something...off about him.”

 

“That may be because-” Joan hesitates. She should really maintain doctor-patient confidentiality, but that was always thrown out the window if a patient was in danger/ a danger to others, and this was a situation concerning patients that were both. 

 

And besides, Damien isn’t really one of her patients, not officially. All things considered, this only seems fair.

 

“That may be because you two have the same powers.”

 

Carmen’s lips part, but nothing comes out, she just mouths words with no sound.

 

“Wh-what?” she says finally. 

 

“He has powers just like yours,” Joan confirms.

 

“B-but you said my ability was extremely rare-”

 

“It is. No one aside from you and Damien has ever had these powers, not documented, at least. The odds of you and him ever coming into contact are, by all means, nearly impossible.”

 

Carmen looks absolutely blown away, blinking away into space. “But he thought I was an empath? And you called me Cara...”

 

“I was trying to keep him off your scent,” Joan explains. 

 

“But why? We have the same powers, what’s wrong with him meeting me?” Carmen asks, puzzled.

 

“Damien is...a complicated person,” Joan says, leaning back in her chair. “He’s very manipulative and desperate to get what he wants, I’d even venture to call him abusive. I’d rather keep you away from that.”

 

“What does he want?”

 

“Someone like him,” Joan replies.

 

“So, me,” Carmen says, not entirely wrong.

 

“He doesn’t know about your abilities yet, but it’s only a matter of time before he figures it out-or I tell him,” Joan admits.

 

“Why the hell would you tell him-?” Carmen breaks off. “Right, the whole mind control thing, nevermind. But, wait, does that mean he makes you tell him about other patients?” She sounds incredulous. 

 

“As I said, he’s very desperate to find someone like him.” 

 

“That’s...wow.” Carmen falls quiet, and Joan can see the gears in her head turning.

 

“What are you thinking, Carmen?” 

 

“Do you think that if I talked to him, he’d leave you alone?” Carmen replies quietly.

 

“Carmen-”

 

“You said he’s looking for someone like him,” Carmen says. “Do you think if he got what he wanted, he’d stop bothering you?” 

 

“I don’t know. Possibly, but Carmen, you two are vastly different in personality, mindset and capability. It wouldn’t be safe.”

 

“Why not?” Carmen challenges her. “If he’s this desperate to find someone like him, it’d be kind of stupid to hurt me, wouldn’t it?”

 

“Damien is someone who has only ever known how to have one kind of relationship: toxic ones. Even if he didn’t want to hurt you, there’s the very real possibility of him doing it unintentionally.”

 

“Do you think we could...help each other?”

 

“He wouldn’t be able to help you, Carmen.”

 

“Could I help him?” Joan hesitates. Truthfully, someone like Carmen  _ could _ steer Damien away from his destructive tendencies, but at what cost? Damien would only do it to maintain a relationship with her, but surely he’d crack at some point.

 

“Dr. Bright? Please be honest.” She can feel Carmen’s ability gently nudging the edges of her mind, and she can feel Carmen’s desire to know. Carmen probably isn’t even aware she’s doing it.

 

“I...maybe.”

 

“Then maybe it’s worth a shot,” Carmen ventures, and Joan opens her mouth to protest. “No, listen, what if I could...change him?”

 

“Carmen-”

 

“What if I could, though? What if I could help him, stop him from using his powers this way? Besides,” Carmen looks down at her hands, “He’s not the only one who really wants to meet someone with similar powers.” 

 

“I’m your therapist, not your mother,” Joan says with a sigh. “What you do outside of this office is not my business; consequently, I can only do my best to advise you and guide you through the ramifications of your decisions. However, I can say that I don’t encourage the idea at all.” 

 

“Damien’s only going to keep trying to find me, right? Even if we’re giving him what he wants this time around, well, he can’t control me. He’ll have to learn a little patience if he wants to stay on my good side,” Carmen points out. 

 

“I-I suppose, but Carmen, I’m really not comfortable with this,” Joan protests. 

 

“I have to try, Dr. Bright. I wouldn’t want him to compromise your job anymore than he already has, and, well, maybe I could use someone with my experiences.”

 

“And I wouldn’t want Damien to hurt you,” Joan pushes. 

 

“If Damien is half as desperate as you say he is to find someone like me, I don’t think I need to worry about that,” Carmen says. “Do you have his number?” 

 

“I think so,” Joan says reluctantly. “We have one on file, at least.”

 

“Good.”

* * *

 

Carmen lays on her couch in the dark of her apartment, dialing numbers on her phone with fingers shaking with anxiety. Taking a deep breath, she listens closely for the other end.

 

Dr. Bright was reluctant to hand over Damien’s number, and Carmen feels guilty, because she doesn’t know how much of that was Dr. Bright and how much of it was her own desire. 

 

The phone clicks, and her grip tightens as a voice from earlier says, “Hello?” His voice is low and feels like nails scraping across a chalkboard, sending anxious tremors down her spine.

 

“Damien?” she says.

 

“You ain’t Dr. B. Who is this?” he demands.

 

“We met earlier, sort of. I’m Dr. Bright’s new patient.”

 

“Ah, Dr. B’s new  _ empath,” _ he says. “Yeah, I remember you.” His voice takes on a certain charm. “What can I do for you,  _ Cara?” _

 

“Dr. Bright wasn’t being entirely honest about me being an empath.”

 

“No shit, sweetheart.” Damien pauses. “How the hell did you get my number?”

 

“I... _ persuaded _ Dr. Bright to give it to me.” She lets her own voice drop low. “I hear you’re pretty good at persuasion yourself.” 

 

She can hear the grin in his voice. “So I’ve been told. What do you want?”

 

“The same thing you do, Damien: someone who understands, someone who knows what it’s like.” She lets that sink in before saying. “From what I’ve heard, that’s something you  _ really _ want.”

 

He's silent for a few moments. “So what are you proposing?” His tone is light but heavy with meaning, like a flirting lover.

 

“Friday, at 11:30, I’ll be at the new coffee shop that just opened up, the one that’s about twelve blocks away from Dr. Bright’s office. If you meet me there, I think we can give each other what we want.”

 

“So far away,” Damien muses. “You won’t be able to run to Dr. B when things get tough.”

 

“Who says I’ll need to?”

 

“C’mon,” he drawls. “Dr. B’s probably told you all about me.”

 

“She told me enough, guess I don’t scare easy,” Carmen says. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

 

He laughs. “I’ll see you then,  _ Carmen. _ ” 

 

Of course he’s known her real name the whole time. Why wouldn’t he? All he had to do was ask Sarah, Carmen tells herself as he hangs up. 

 

He’s only trying to rattle her. 

 

Well, after what she’s seen, he’ll soon figure out that it takes a lot more than this to throw her off. 

 

She’s danced with devils before, and most of the burns have healed.

 

What’s one more demon to add to her collection? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooooooh what's gonna happen next?


	4. Chapter 4

Damien isn’t sure what to think or feel right now. He’s sitting at a tiny little table in a coffee shop where the espresso is so strong you can taste it in the air. Carmen’s at the front getting herself a drink.

 

He’s actually meeting someone with his abilities, like, sitting down and talking to them like a normal human being. It’s fucking surreal. He’s oddly anxious and his fingers drum on the table.

 

He casts a dark look at her phone, poorly concealed by a paper napkin, which he knows is merrily recording their entire meeting, no doubt a stipulation of good old Dr. B’s.

 

It’s a start, though. Eventually, he’s sure he can convince Carmen to drop the recordings altogether

 

His attention snaps back to Carmen as she comes towards the table...holding two coffees? The girl must run on caffeine. 

 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just got us mochas,” she says as she’s within speaking range, holding a cup out to him. He stares at her offering for a few moments. 

 

“What?” Her arm lowers slightly. “Are you not a coffee person? They’ve got tea and smoothies too-”

 

Tea? Smoothies? He mentally shudders and takes the cup from her. “Coffee’s fine,” he says as she takes the seat across from him. “It’s just…” 

 

“Just...what?” she prompts.

 

“I can’t remember the last time someone bought me anything,” he says finally. “Of their own free will, that is.” 

 

“...Ah.” She takes a sip from her cup, and the lid is smudged with pink lipstick when she sets it down. “I’m not sure how to respond to that.” 

 

Well, they’re off to a fantastic start.

 

“Do you really have to record this?” he says, changing the subject, gesturing at her phone.

 

“Dr. Bright thought that maybe it’d be good to take notes about the similarities and differences in our experiences,” she explains. “Besides, I’m not planning on giving the recordings to her.”

 

“You’re not?” He finds that hard to believe.

 

“No,” she says. “This is more of a personal thing. Dr. Bright did say that she would advise me on whether or not to continue meeting you based on how you and I act and what we say during our sessions.”

 

Sounds like bullshit to him, but he’s sure he could win her over from the good doctor’s grasp. 

 

“So, what do you do for fun?” she asks. 

 

He scoffs. Is she serious? “Are we really doing this?”

“Well-I thought-I’m-” She stops. “Have you never...done this before?”

 

“Done what?”

 

“Met with someone, like, as a friend...have you never done that?” 

 

He didn’t answer that. “You have, I’m assuming?” he replies.

 

“A little, I really only have like, one friend, a co-worker, honestly. She’s an atypical too, the only reason we talk at all is because I caught her using her powers.”

 

“What does she do?”

 

“Not what we do,” she answers, taking a long drink from her cup and that when he knows that has to be enough for him because he also knows she’s not giving her friend’s secret up. So she’s loyal. That could be helpful in the long run. “Do you have any hobbies?” she questions.

 

Jesus, it’s like they’re speed dating.

 

“Are we really gonna beat around the bush here?” he says. 

 

“Well...we don’t have to, I guess.”

 

“Then let’s not.”

 

“Okay...um, how long have you had the...power?” she asks. 

 

“About fourteen years.” He’s not expecting her reaction.

 

Her eyes widen.  _ “Fourteen?”  _ Carmen repeats, dumbfounded. “Jesus, that’s-that’s twice as long as I’ve-that’s  _ horrible!” _

 

Horrible? “It’s got its pros and cons,” he says slowly. 

 

“Wait, but- how old are you now?”

 

“I’m your age,” he replies, and he can see her doing the math. She doesn't ask how he knows her age. 

 

“You-you’ve had this since you were a  _ kid?” _ she says incredulously. “That-that sucks.”

 

“You’re getting yourself worked up over nothing,” he says. “It hasn’t been bad.”

 

“But you were just a kid when it showed up,” she says. “That must have been terrifying, and-and horrible-”

 

She’s...not far from the truth. “Nah. It could have been worse.” No, it couldn’t have.

 

“How do you do it?” Carmen asks, staring at him, almost horrified…? “How do you live with this?”

 

“C’mon, you’re making it out to be a curse,” he says. “It’s not.”

 

“It’s not a blessing, either,” she pushes, and she’s not completely wrong.

 

“That’s why you control it, and use it to your advantage,” he replies.

 

“I don’t know how to do that.”

 

“You can learn.”

 

“Could you control it at first?” she inquires. “Did you know when you were using it, or would something happen and you didn’t realize that you were doing it? Did you ever make someone do something you wish you hadn’t-”

 

She’s treading on dangerous waters, and he’s having none of it.

 

“Why are you asking me all these questions?” he snaps. “To report back to Dr. B?”

 

“What? No!” she sputters. “Damien, I’m just trying to-” She breaks off, looking around her, before lowering her voice and leaning towards him.

 

“I just want to know if you’ve been through any of the things I have,” she says quietly. “I want to know if you have the same problems I’ve had, if we’ve experienced similar things. I-” She hesitates. “I want to know if you can understand, and I know you want that too.”

 

He takes a sip of coffee to avoid responding that. The mocha she bought for him has cooled considerably, but it’s not bad. He’ll have to keep it in mind next time he’s here. 

 

She sits back. “Damien, I agreed to meet with you because despite your... _ questionable _ behavior and fairly dickish attitude, I think you and I could maybe be casual acquaintances at the least, if not friends.” She runs a finger around the edge of her coffee cup. “I want to keep meeting you, Damien, but to do that I need to trust you, and if I don’t know anything about you, I won’t do this.” 

 

The unspoken  _ You can’t make me, either _ , hangs in the air between them. 

 

There’s a tense silence then, punctuated by the grinding of the espresso machines. 

 

She's so...odd. He doesn't like not being in control of the conversation and she seems to switch personalities with ease, far from the girl he spoke to on the phone, like she's trying out different acts on him. 

 

She'd be far better as an ally than she would an enemy. Might as well make her an ally. 

 

“No,” he says.

 

“No?” She looks puzzled.

 

“No, I couldn’t control it at first,” Damien grinds out.

 

“So how did you?” 

 

“I learned,” he says. “Plain and simple.” 

 

“Could you-” She hesitates. “Could you teach me?”

 

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you serious?” 

 

“I can’t control my powers,” she says, “You can. If you could just-” She keeps talking, trying to persuade him, but he’s busy thinking. 

 

He’s no teacher, but it would be an excuse to hang around her more, get to know her, get closer...and maybe, if she learned, he’d finally have someone who understood.

 

“-and Dr. Bright tries and all, but she doesn’t actually have the power, so-”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay? You mean-”

 

“Yeah, I’ll teach you.”

 

She smiles, an actual, genuine smile, and Jesus, no one’s ever smiled at him like that and meant it. 

  
And hey, if it makes the corners of his mouth quirk up a little in response, it’s all coincidental. 


	5. Chapter 5

This is going better than she thought it would, Carmen thinks, which means that the other shoe’s about to drop.

 

To be fair, her standards were pretty low.

 

Well, he hasn’t tried to kidnap her yet, that’s something. He hasn’t made the whole coffee shop stand up and attack her like mind-controlled zombies (Dr. Bright could raise her eyebrows all she wanted, but it was a completely plausible concern). 

 

He’s actually smiling. Okay, well, smiling isn’t the right word. ‘Smiling’ sounds too innocent, too friendly, she thinks as she observes him, with his lips twisted into a wry smirk and steel eyes glinting with interest and something else that she can’t quite put her finger on, but it feels familiar. 

 

And he’s agreed to teach her. For an antisocial asshole, that’s kind of surprising, but then again, she doesn’t need to be Dr. Bright to guess that he’ll claw at any chance he can to be near her.

 

“My lunch break’s almost up,” she says, lamenting the fact that the studio only gives her forty-five minutes, because between traffic and the time they’ve spent, it goes by fast. 

 

“C’mon, you can’t get them to lighten up?” he tries to coax. He doesn’t know what she does for a living, which may or may not be a good thing. It’s not an entirely bad thing.

 

“Nope. I’m off on Sunday though,” she offers. “Same time, same place, to keep it simple?”

 

“What am I supposed to do until then?” he asks, arching an eyebrow.

 

“Do what everyone else does,” she says airily as she rises from her chair, “Wait.”

 

She has her hand on the back of the chair, about to push it in when his hand wraps around the wood next to hers, and she’s face-to-face with him.

 

“I’m not like everyone else,” he says softly, “And neither are you.”

 

“And yet, we live in the same world as everyone else,” she counters, pushing the chair back under the table, and swipes her phone off the table. “I’ll see you on Sunday, Damien. Try to keep yourself entertained within legal parameters, if you would?”

 

He must not be used to not getting what he wants, because she has to stifle a laugh at his expression as she leaves, despite feeling like she just crossed the first circle of hell.

* * *

 

They’re almost to the end of the session, and Carmen’s spent the hour dancing around her meeting with Damien, changing the subject and such before dropping the final bomb.

 

“You asked him to teach you?” Dr. Bright sputters.

 

“I know, it seems like a bad idea,” Carmen admits. “But Dr. Bright, you’ve said it yourself, you only know so much about these abilities, and Damien’s pretty much learned how to control his powers on his own. Don’t you want to know how he’s done it?” 

 

“Of course I’m curious, Carmen, but that doesn’t mean I’d advise having him teach you. His methods are undoubtedly...unethical, in some way.”

 

“We’ll have to find some closer to the limits of the law, then.”

 

“Damien is not someone who listens to what other people say-”

 

“Other people can’t resist him,” Carmen points out. “And other people aren’t the closest chance he’s got to have a friend. He’ll listen, for a little while, at least.”

 

“Carmen-”

 

“I have to go,” Carmen says, rising. “I’m meeting Damien again, longer this time.”

 

“Are you sure that’s wise?” 

 

“We’re in public, the whole thing’s being recorded and uploaded to a drive at home just in case,’ Carmen shrugs. “He’s done pretty well so far.”

 

“Be careful, Carmen,” Dr. Bright implores her.

 

“Always, Dr. Bright.”

* * *

 

He’s the one who gets the coffee this time, but with a flashed smile and a little push, Carmen’s drink is the only one on the receipt.

 

“Did you actually pay for that, or did you just persuade the barista to let it be on the house?” she asks as she takes the cup from his hand. 

 

“I paid for _ yours _ ,” he answers with a grin. “Mine, on the other hand…” 

 

“Why?”

 

Why? What does she mean by ‘why?’ Isn’t this what you’re supposed to do, pay people back when they buy you shit? He never bothered with all that social etiquette crap. Why would he, when he didn’t need it to get what he wanted? Diplomacy wasn’t needed, just a smile and a little mental push.

 

But Carmen wasn’t like that. Diplomacy was a tactic he needed to pick up, and fast. Good thing he catches on quickly.

 

“I don’t like owing people things,” he replies. 

 

She raises an eyebrow. “You thought you owed me a coffee?”

 

“Technically, I suppose. I don’t want that toxic sugar stuff from yesterday to come back and haunt me, in more ways than one.”

 

“Whatever. You drank that ‘toxic sugar stuff’ pretty easily,” she says, slinging one arm over the back of her chair, her lips painted red and curved in a knowing smile.

 

“We didn’t get to chat much on Friday,” he says, changing the subject, and her smile grows a little wider in satisfaction. “Partly because of your explanations and my…” Shit, he doesn’t have a word ready. When has that happened?

 

“Trepidation? Avoidance? General prickliness?” she suggests, and while they’re not what he was going for, they’re in the general vicinity. “That’s fair. I shouldn’t have expected you to unload your past all at once.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “So, maybe a do-over is in order?”

 

He just looks at her, taking her in before saying,“Yeah, why not.”

 

“Alright.” She tosses her head, her dark hair falling over her shoulder, before setting her coffee cup down and extending a hand across the table. 

 

“I’m Carmen,” she says seriously, though the corners of her mouth are twitching.

 

He scoffs, but rolls his eyes and plays along. “Damien.” He gives her hand a quick shake before sitting back in his chair, and she’s smiling like she’s won something. He stares at her again, a bit unsettled.

 

She’s so...warm, now. He’s not used to warm. He’s had plenty of experience with mindless flattering, disdain, and empty words...warmth is new.

 

“You okay?” she says, her brow furrowing in concern, and that’s new too; as a result, he snaps out of his thoughts. 

 

“I’m fine, just…”

 

She waits for him to keep going, he might as well come out with it.

 

“You’re so...different,” he says. “Don’t worry, it’s a good different,” he adds at her raised eyebrows, “I think.”

 

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” she says, rolling her eyes. 

 

She’s...teasing him? He can’t remember the last time anyone tried friendly teasing with him, most barbs at his expense are usually Dr. B’s when she’s testy, tone venomous and words sharper than the intelligence in her eyes. 

 

“I like to think so,” he replies. Drinking his coffee, he says, “So, what do you like to do for fun?”

 

She cocks her head at him, an incredulous expression on her face. “Oh, so you can ask those questions, but I can’t?” 

 

“Just making conversation,” he responds. “That didn’t answer the question, either.”

 

She takes a sip of coffee. “You’ll laugh. Everyone else does.”

 

“I’m not like everyone else.”

 

“So I’ve heard,” she snarks. 

 

“I won’t laugh, Scout’s Honor,” he swears. She doesn’t need to know he wasn’t ever a Boy Scout. Well, his parents had tried when he was really little, like seven, but he’d been quote “a difficult child,” apparently.

 

“Fine. I’m pretty into the performing arts, you know, dancing, theatre, singing-You said you wouldn’t laugh!” 

 

“I’m not laughing,” he protests, hiding his smirk behind his coffee cup. “You just didn’t strike me as a theatre geek.”

 

“I’m not, not anymore, really. At least, with the theatre and singing part.” A bit of the light in her eyes dims.

 

“Why not?” he inquires. 

 

She runs a finger along the rim of her cup. “It’s stupid. And really geeky.”

 

“Try me.”

 

“Well, ever since my ability started and I actually figured it out...I didn’t think it’d be fair to go and audition for things, especially if I really wanted the part, and…” She sighs. “Well, this is the stupid part, I guess. I really get into it, you know? Like I get into the character’s head and convince myself that I want what they want and then it bleeds into the people around me and becomes a huge mess because characters in theatre want really weird things-I was the lead in a genderbent Sweeney Todd, and it was a total disaster.”

 

“That’s pretty geeky,” he comments. “Only mildly stupid, though.”

 

She scoffs. “Wow, thanks.” 

 

“You said it, not me.” He pauses. “What did you mean by ‘bleeds?’”

 

“I can’t control it,” she says simply. “It comes and goes in intensity, usually it depends on how high my emotions are running, but it’s like my wants sort of just start seeping out, influencing the people around me. Usually it just affects how people treat me.”

 

“What do you mean?” he asks, testing, waiting to see how similar their experiences are.

 

“Well, we all want people to like us, don’t we?” Carmen says. “If I’m interacting with anyone, I’m never sure if they’re being nice to me because they like me for real or if it’s these stupid powers screwing with their heads.” She’s started shredding a napkin from the holder on the table. “That’s...that’s why I’m glad that you and me can talk. ‘Cause if you end up not wanting to strangle me, then that means I’ve really managed to get someone to like me for the first time in a while.” She looks up at him, her brown eyes open and tinged with a distinct sadness. 

 

“I’m probably not making any sense, am I?”

 

“No,” he says, a little too quickly, because _ Jesus Christ someone put it into words. _ “No, that-that sounds about right.” He sets his coffee down to cover up the slight tremble in his hands-  _ why are they doing that? _

 

“It sucks,” he says, and wow, isn’t he eloquent, folks?

 

“It does,” she agrees quietly. “But you’ve been dealing with it longer. That’s gotta suck even more.”

 

“You learn to live with it,” he says. 

 

“It still sucks,” she says, quiet for a moment before saying, “I’m glad we found each other. It’s nice to know someone who knows the score.” She winces almost imperceptibly. “I mean, I know we don’t really know each other, but it’s really nice knowing I’m not totally alone.”

 

“Yeah, likewise,” Damien says, finding himself granting her a small smile. He can see it, her desperation, and if he were anyone else he might scoff. It seems hypocritical, considering everything he’s done to find someone like him,and even this was caused by pure accident.  _ If Dr. B had her way, we never would’ve come within a mile of each other, _ he thinks darkly. 

 

“You know, you shouldn’t let your powers get in the way of your...theatre stuff,” he says, gesturing aimlessly. “If there’s anything I’ve learned over the years, it’s that you can’t obsess over everything, over whether or not your powers are interfering.”

 

“But if I can’t control it-”

 

“You’ll control it,” he insists. “We’ll make sure of that.”

 

It’s the perfect thing to say because it brings back some of the light to her eyes. 

 

“You really think so?”

 

“Definitely.” He sits back in his chair, grinning as he says, “And besides, how the hell are you going to get a Tony if people are too busy trying to kill each other and bake them into pies to watch you in action?” 

 

She laughs, before the entirety of his words settle. “Wait, you actually know the play?” she demands in disbelief. “And _ I’m _ the theatre geek?”

 

“I saw the movie on Netflix,” he lies, though the truth is that he snuck into a showing to lose the cops on his tail awhile back. It wasn’t as horrible as he’d thought. 

 

“C’mon,” she says, imitating his signature drawl, “You watched the play, didn’t you?” 

 

“Helena Bonham Carter’s a babe,” he replies coolly, picking up his coffee again. “I don’t remember much else.”

 

“Uh huh,” she says, unconvinced. “Though I’m not arguing about Helena Bonham Carter.”

 

He chokes on his coffee and she cracks up. “Kidding,” she says. “Helena doesn’t do it for me. Idina Menzel and Jesse Martin, on the other hand…”

 

He considers this and nods in approval, and when she laughs, he wonders if this is what making friends is like.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment/kudos, please!


End file.
